


Twin Blades and Dueling Stances

by Ralph_E_Silvering



Series: Ahsoka's Masters [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 23:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralph_E_Silvering/pseuds/Ralph_E_Silvering
Summary: Ahsoka’s been Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan for over a year now but just can’t seem to break the habit of fighting with a reverse grip on her lightsaber, especially in stressful situations. Anakin’s at his wit’s end when Obi-Wan decides to intervene. The usual amount of bickering occurs, and Ahsoka learns that General Kenobi isn’t called “The Negotiator” for nothing.Part Two of the “Ahsoka’s Masters,” series.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Ahsoka's Masters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213139
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	Twin Blades and Dueling Stances

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been lurking around in the back of my mind for a couple years now (I just never have any time to write anymore) but as I’m home from work today, because I’m under the weather from the second COVID shot (it just feels like I have a bit of the flu), I figured I’d be somewhat productive and write something for you all.

***

“No, Ahsoka! No, no, NO!”

Anakin’s shout is so loud it reverberates around the entire training room, bounces off the slate grey durasteel walls of the Republic cruiser’s interior, and causes a couple of the 501st troopers, Echo and Fives in particular, to look up in mild alarm.

Anakin powers down the training droids and stalks across the deck, eyebrows drawn down in annoyance and with a face like a thundercloud. His boots ring out in military precision as he bears down on her. The lull in the conversation starts up again, louder than before, as every single clone in the vicinity tries to look like they’re not watching General Skywalker give his Jedi student yet another telling off.

Ahsoka powered down her green-bladed lightsaber and felt herself flush in embarrassment. She was grateful her dusky Togrutan coloring makes it hard to tell. If she had Master Obi-Wan’s pale skin, she’d be as red as one of those deadly Saava plants that grow on Kashyyyk. Even Anakin’s desert-tanned skin was flushed a dull red as he came to a halt before her, waving the hand around that held the droid-controller.

“Ahsoka, for the 800th time! Why must you always ----”

He viciously bit off whatever he’d been about to stay, chewing on his lower lip aggressively as he glared down at her. His brilliant blue eyes burned like fire. Ahsoka knew she was talented, knew that she’d been called a child prodigy at the temple, but Anakin Skywalker was brilliant. He had a genius-level intellect and the ability to pick up new skills and talents faster than anyone she’d ever met. And his raw power in the Force was phenomenal. She’d never felt anyone else even come close to him.

Except maybe Master Obi-Wan when he was too exhausted to shield himself properly.

Anakin never bothered to shield himself and when he turned all that raw power on you it felt like being battered by a sandstorm or standing in the face of a tsunami or bracing yourself while in the heart of a tornado. And all that brilliance of his made it almost impossible for him to understand why any other Jedi simply couldn’t do or learn things like he did.

More and more, Ahsoka understood Master Windu’s pained expression every time Anakin stood before the Council. And Obi-Wan’s longsuffering expression.

Anakin was still glaring at her, like she was a recalcitrant ion flux stabilizer that refused to modulate the hyperdrive properly. She was not a machine, thank you very much. She was his _Padawan_.

Ahsoka firmed her chin and glared back at him. “Don’t hold back on my account, Master. I can take whatever you planned on saying.”

She’d meant to sound calm and in control but knew it came out far more aggressive than she’d wanted. _Stang_.

Anakin’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get snippy with me, young one,” he snapped, arms crossed over his chest.

Ahsoka stuck her chin out and glared harder. “Don’t act like a bully then, Master! _You’re_ not teaching it the right way!”

“I’m not teaching it the right way?” he demanded, sounding flummoxed.

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I AM!”

“Nope!”

“Definitely am.”

Ahsoka could feel Echo’s rising amusement, saw Fives’ furtive glance towards the door, felt Jesse look worriedly between Ahsoka and Anakin, and knew the rest of the men weren’t even bothering to act busy anymore. Instead, they were avidly watching the verbal ping-pong match taking place between their General and Commander.

Ahsoka didn’t feel very much like a commander at the moment. All she felt was the rising urge to punch Anakin Skywalker right in the face. He never listened! It was at times like these that she was reminded her Master wasn’t all that much older than her, for all that he was in charge of one half of the Open Circle Fleet. Boys!

There came a quiet throat clearing from the direction of the door, where Fives had been looking. Master Obi-Wan’s soft, Coruscanti-accented voice interrupted Anakin just as he’d drawn breath to continue their argument. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said in tones of mild sarcasm. He knew very well what he was interrupting.

Anakin deflated like a hot-air balloon, glancing up towards his Master. Ahsoka, as annoyed and frustrated as she was, couldn’t help but notice how the sight of Obi-Wan seemed to center Anakin, as though he’d found his calm in the midst of the storm.

Their eyes locked like magnets across the training room and for a moment it seemed like Anakin didn’t even breathe. Then he took a quiet, slow breath and looked down at Ahsoka. Some of the fire faded from his gaze and now he looked merely tired, disappointed almost.

Ahsoka felt a squirming feeling in her stomach. Disappointment was so much _worse_. She dropped her eyes and stared down at the deck, watching as Anakin’s boots vanished from view.

He took a step back and she knew he was waving the droid-controller datapad in her direction. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Obi-Wan,” her Master said. “She doesn’t seem to understand anything I’m trying to say. I’ve been trying for yours, for _days_.” Beat. Then through gritted teeth: “It’s probably my fault ---”

“Oh, undoubtedly so, my very young padawan,” Obi-Wan interrupted smoothly, and Ahsoka felt her lips twitch at the sudden swell of begrudging amusement and exasperation that she felt from her Master.

“I hate it when you call me that,” her powerful Master muttered sullenly.

“Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked, innocently. He moved silently across the deck until he stood at Ahsoka’s side. Obi-Wan’s Force presence was always golden and warm.

“Young,” Anakin retorted, sounding very young indeed.

“Well, if the kyber crystal calls, Anakin….”

Anakin’s silence turned hot again and Obi-Wan sighed, relenting a little. Ahsoka knew without looking that he was pinching the bridge of his nose. There was more grey in Obi-Wan’s hair than there’d been six months ago. Although he liked to joke that each one of those grey hairs could be traced back to one of Anakin’s hair-raising exploits, Ahsoka knew the stress and strain of this war was wearing on him more than he liked to admit. Sometimes she thought Anakin did some of the crazy things he did so that Obi-Wan would focus more on yelling at him, than on the lives he couldn’t save or the war he couldn’t end. 

“What seems to be the difficulty?” She could feel his gaze on her. “You seem to have traumatized your Padawan so that she can only look at the floor, Anakin,” he reproved. She felt tiny tendrils of his Force presence reach out towards her. The bond between her and Obi-Wan was a thin, almost-invisible string compared to the bright Master-Padawan bond she shared with Anakin, but it was still there.

She let him feel her embarrassment and frustration, and that there was nothing more upsetting her than that. He mentally pulled back and patted her gently on her montrals.

“I did not traumatize my Padawan!” Anakin contested hotly. “Snips is tougher than that.” He shot her a concerned look all the same.

Ahsoka looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Every day with you is a traumatizing experience, Master,” she assured him cheekily. “I should have requested Master Luminara as my teacher.”

Anakin made a face at her.

“Children, children,” Obi-Wan murmured.

A bell rang from deep within the ship announcing shift change and the men around them nodded respectfully to their Generals and Commander and left the room. Ahsoka thought they didn’t mind so much now that the show appeared to be over. Anakin’s dramatics were always the talk of the 501st. Ahsoka had sat through more retellings of Anakin’s reaction when he felt Obi-Wan almost die during the Mission to Zigoola than she could remember.

“Alone at last,” Obi-Wan announced as the last clone filed through the door. With a casual wave of his hand, the door slid shut with an audible ‘hiss’ and locked. Another wave and the harsh, industrial lights dimmed perceptibly, easing the strain on Ahsoka’s eyes.

“Tsk, tsk, Master,” Anakin teased. “What would the Council say about such a frivolous use of the Force.”

“About as much as they say when you report you’ve destroyed yet another ship, my Padawan,” Obi-Wan returned.

“Ugh. You always have to bring that up. It was one mission, and it was only five ships!”

“Six.”

“That sixth one didn’t count. Ventress ran into it!”

“Because you shot out her rear stabilizers.”

“She’s lucky that’s _all_ I shot out.”

“Be that as it may be,” Obi-Wan said loudly, “I think in this case a little frivolous use of the Force is warranted.”

An embarrassed silence fell. “Because I traumatized my Padawan?” Anakin asked at last, sounding sulky again.

“I am not ---” Ahsoka began, hotly. She wasn’t some easily frightened kid, thank you very much. Although she could see how some of the new shinies would be terrified to have General Skywalker shouting at them.

Obi-Wan held up a peaceable hand. “Because we’re all a stressed and tired and need a bit of a break.”

More embarrassed silence.

“Oh,” Anakin said in a quiet voice.

Ahsoka snorted.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan said. He turned his piercing aquamarine eyes on his former Padawan. “And since you seem to be all riled up this morning, Anakin, how about a little sparring?” He waggled his eyebrows and Ahsoka knew he was biting back a grin.

Anakin’s entire Force presence changed. Nonchalantly he shrugged. “Whatever you want, Master,” he averred, as though they couldn’t all feel his excitement, and Ahsoka snorted again. Anakin shot her a severe look.

“Strange how you’re only ever this acquiescent when I suggest sparring,” Obi-Wan mused. He stepped up to the edge of the largest training mat, toed off his boots, and shrugged off his tan-colored tabard. Anakin’s eyes followed him, dark and intent, and an entirely different sort of flush colored his cheeks now.

When Anakin was busy removing his own covering garment, Obi-Wan turned to look over at her.

Ahsoka shook her head. “I can’t offer to spar with, Anakin.” She grimaced. “Every time I do, he gets all angry about how I default to reverse grip as soon as it gets difficult.”

‘“It’s too slow, Ahsoka,”’ she continued, in a passable imitation of Anakin’s annoyed growl. ‘“An opponent is going to come along and take off your head one of these days, while you’re still trying to swing your blade.”’

“I do not sound like that,” Anakin muttered.

Obi-Wan ignored him, stroking his beard while he thought. His gaze flicked from Anakin’s disgruntled expression to Ahsoka’s tired and frustrated one. “Well, I’m sure you’ll work it out,” he said. “Now, on guard, Anakin,” and he stepped out onto the mat, settling into one of his favorite introductory dueling stances. Hands raised.

Ahsoka dropped down to sit cross legged on the floor, her own lightsaber still held loosely in her hands. The hum of the kyber crystal inside was calming, trying to push against the frustration at herself that she still felt.

Anakin stepped onto the mat as well. “What, no lightsabers, Master?” He sounded extremely disappointed.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Do you need a lightsaber, yet my Padawan?” His tone was both fond and chiding.

“I always need a lightsaber with you,” Anakin informed him, some sort of double meaning in there from the way Obi-Wan’s face turned slightly pink and Anakin looked both embarrassed and smug. Ahsoka made a face and shook her head.

“I’ve been traumatized enough for one day, Master,” she called out.

“Just you watch and learn, my young Padawan,” he called back loftily, and then, without warning, he dove at Master Obi-Wan.

What followed next lasted about ten minutes, maybe less. Anakin and Obi-Wan struck and punched and ducked and weaved and blocked. When Obi-Wan managed to get a leg behind Anakin’s, he rolled them both to the ground, where they grappled with each other, Anakin laughing and Obi-Wan watching him with intent.

By the time Anakin managed to extricate himself, he was panting and bright red. Stumbling back from his master, he’d obviously decided that enough was enough. With a flick of his wrist, he called his lightsaber to him. A snap-hiss and the brilliant blue blade was ignited, placed between him and the advancing Obi-Wan in Anakin’s favorite opening stance in Djem Sho.

Ahsoka found herself growing more excited. Now, maybe, she would learn something new. Every time Obi-Wan and Anakin sparred, which didn’t happen as often as they would like, she knew, Ahsoka picked up something new she could try herself. The two Jedi seemed able to read each other’s minds, based on how fluidly they complemented each other.

Ahsoka had heard the whispered awe in the voices of other Jedi at the Temple when they talked about Obi-Wan and Anakin’s continued bond in the Force, beyond what a Master and Padawan shared. Although no one ever talked about it openly, Ahsoka knew that it was extraordinarily rare, and a secret just for the Jedi to know.

Obi-Wan advanced on Anakin with a small, private grin. “Now, Anakin,” he said, still advancing. Anakin took a couple steps back even though the hum of his blade was between them. “You know that a lightsaber is your weapon, but the Force is your guide.”

With a flick of his own wrists, his blue lightsaber flew across to him and with a sharp tug that surprised her, Ahsoka’s own lightsaber flew out to meet him. Master Obi-Wan ignited both, his own in his right hand and Ahsoka’s in a reverse grip in his left. 

Anakin’s eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s voice was calm and even, eyes never leaving his former Padawan’s. “If the Force, and her own body, are telling Ahsoka to use a reverse grip, then perhaps you should listen.”

Anakin’s blue eyes looked between the twin blades and Obi-Wan’s resolute expression. “Jar’kai?” he asked derisively. “She’ll still be too slow.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan’s smile was slow and filled with promise.

Anakin took the challenge and the fight resumed.

Around and around they circled, blades clashing loudly in the training room, green and blue on blue. Obi-Wan fluidly spun and blocked and attacked, one hand remaining in a reverse position that he used for long, hard strikes when he spun and attacked in unpredictable ways, and the forward-gripped blade being used to block and parry Anakin’s aggressive swings.

Anakin couldn’t even get through Master Obi-Wan’s defense.

Ahsoka had had no idea Master Obi-Wan was so skilled at Jar’kai. Anakin rarely used it, although now that she thought back, he’d been fast, precise and ruthless with its application when he’d rescued her Grievous’ clutches several months ago.

Watching them fight was like watching them a dance or a space battle, exhilarating and filled with a dangerous beauty. Ahsoka watched Anakin finally slip under Obi-Wan’s guard, watched him simply drop his lightsaber and tackle the other man, watched Obi-Wan let his lightsabers go flying, turning off with their familiar snap-hiss.

And then it was silent save for their panting breaths, Anakin straddling Obi-Wan on the mats, their faces inches apart.

Obi-Wan was smiling. He reached up and brushed some of Anakin’s hair off his sweaty forehead. “You are more than adequate in Jar’kai, dear one,” he murmured, low enough that Ahsoka had to strain to hear him. “And it is not a sign of weakness to ask for help training your Padawan. We are all here for you both.”

Lightly he finished with, “The Force knows I had to ask Master Yoda for plenty of advice about you.”

Anakin laughed, his presence finally mellow and calm. “That’s because I’m a special case, Master.” He scrambled off the other man, holding a hand down to him.

“I won’t argue with that,” Obi-Wan agreed, letting the younger man hoist him up off the floor.

Obi-Wan bent down to retrieve Ahsoka’s lightsaber. Moving towards her, he held it out. “Thank you for the use of this blade, Padawan. It is well constructed.”

Ahsoka stood and took the cylindrical hilt. It was warm from Obi-Wan’s hand. “Thank you, Master,” she said quietly. Together they turned to look at Anakin, who was still on the other side of the mat, shrugging into his tabard.

He rolled his eyes at them. They had no idea, but there was an identical expression of patience and stubbornness on their faces, no doubt learned in Ahsoka’s case and intrinsic to his personality in Obi-Wan’s.

Anakin Skywalker ruefully conceded. “Ahsoka, we’re going to have to stop at Ilum soon. You need another crystal if Obi-Wan’s going to teach you Jar’kai.” He fixed her with a stern look. “You will obey him as you do me – _better_ than you do me,” he amended.

“Sweet! Soon I’ll be able to give you a real challenge, Master,” Ahsoka whopped, before she raced out of the training room, off to find Rex to tell him all about it.

Obi-Wan and Anakin watched her go.

“I wasn’t listening to the Force,” Anakin said at last, sounding resigned. “You were right.”

Mildly, Obi-Wan said: “It has been known to happen.”

Anakin grunted, rubbing his aching temples. “Do you have some time, or do you have to get back to your ship?” It was a careful question, as though he tried not to get his hopes up, and there was a small amount of bitterness behind it.

Obi-Wan rested a hand on Anakin’s arm. “I have time,” he assured him, watching with relief as Anakin’s strained features smoothed out.

Their eyes met and Obi-Wan knew that if it wasn’t for the presence of recording devices and clones everywhere, Anakin would have manhandled him to kiss him already.

Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s arm. “Come along, old man. We have more _dueling_ to practice.”

Obi-Wan groaned. “Anakin, enough with the euphemisms already!”

The door to the training room hissed shut behind them, leaving behind only the noise of the sublight engines as the Republic cruiser made its way through the vastness of space.

The End


End file.
